"Oh, Harry," she said, "I wish I were a different kind of person."
He took off his glasses with one hand, a gesture she loved, and studied her. He was exposing himself to her gaze even as he was seeing her with his own eyes.
What kind of person, he wanted to know.
"Someone," she said slowly, "who truly loves life."
He was still looking at her, still cradling his glasses in his left hand. He said, "You're the kind of person who never stops trying."
***********************
i don't know, in some ways, i think that the person always trying has it better off.
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